


Uncontainable

by pinkadot



Category: Sekai-ichi Hatsukoi
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Phone Calls & Telephones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-21
Updated: 2011-10-21
Packaged: 2017-10-24 20:06:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/267349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkadot/pseuds/pinkadot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kind of a "what-if" that takes place after Takano bandages Ritsu's knee in volume 4/episode 12.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Uncontainable

Sometimes Ritsu hated Mutou-sensei. It wasn’t that she was a disagreeable charge or hard to get along with. In fact, she had never been anything but pleasant and kind toward him, and for a rookie shoujo manga editor expected to live up to Monthly Emerald’s exceedingly high standards, Ritsu couldn’t have asked for a nicer mangaka to have in his care. The fact that she had praised him earlier for being far more competent than she had originally expected may have gone to his head a just a little. Because he was only now just beginning to remember why he really was not pleased with her at the moment.

She had terrible timing.

Ritsu distinctly recalled the first time she had delivered her manuscript to him, via fax, and he had excitedly checked it over with his red pen, unsure whether he was making worthwhile changes or simply making a mess of her hard work. He had ended up calling on Takano-san’s expertise to help allay his fears, and boy had that ever turned sour. He’d ended up flat on his back in Takano-san’s hallway, fingers desperately clutching his deceptively strong arms, head a mess of blissful nostalgia and shameful anger as Takano-san’s hand expertly stroked him to an embarrassingly quick climax. Takano-san had no sense of personal boundaries. This was hardly Mutou-sensei’s fault, but try as he might, Ritsu couldn’t help but link the two memories together.

Mutou-sensei’s timing hadn’t been any better later that month when all her assistants had come down with the flu just before the final manuscript was due at the printer’s. Ritsu had taken a gamble and jetted off to Hokkaido to help her tone and typeset the final few pages right there in the airport so she wouldn’t miss her deadline. He didn’t have to go out of his way for her, but he knew she was trying her best, and he didn’t want Takano-san (or Yokozawa-san, for that matter) to think of him as incapable of managing one measly author, so he had thrown caution to the wind and risked not only his reputation, but Takano-san’s as well in order to prove himself. In the end, it had paid off, but the guilt over his near-miss had stayed with him for quite a while.

But what he hated her for most was the situation that was currently unfolding.

Somehow, Ritsu had found himself flat on his back once again, this time in his own apartment. He had told himself he would lock the door. If he would just lock the door, Takano-san wouldn’t be able to come in, nothing would be able to happen, and life would continue on as usual. That’s how it should be—how it _had_ to be in order for Ritsu to have any peace in his life. He couldn’t just keep letting Takano-san storm into his world, into his apartment, and sweep him off his feet with whispered words of love and sweet murmurings of _Ritsu_ that set his heart to beating double-time with memories of _Saga-senpai_ and naïve teenage fantasies.

He told himself this even as Takano-san pushed all of his need and desperation into Ritsu’s mouth with his tongue, wearing down his defenses with the stirrings of pleasure. He told himself this even as his shirt was unbuttoned, his pants pushed down, and Takano-san’s tongue was swirling around the head of his cock in maddeningly slow circles, feeling _so good_ , yet at the same time… Well, maybe it wouldn’t be _so_ bad to let himself go just this once.

The minutes that followed were a blur of mingled pleasure and confusion, frantic kisses and deafening heartbeats. And just when Ritsu thought he could give Takano-san what he wanted, that his feelings were clear and straight in his heart for the first time since high school, that’s when his phone rang.

Mutou-sensei.

Even if he hadn’t had a special ringtone for her, Ritsu would have known it was her. She was the only person he knew whose timing was _that_ bad. What frustrated him the most wasn’t that she had interrupted he and Takano-san while their tongues were as tangled as their legs and he was intoxicated with the knowledge that _he_ was the one responsible for the pulsing heat of Takano-san’s cock as it pressed hard and insistent against Ritsu’s bare thigh. No, what bothered him the most was what might have happened had Mutou-sensei _not_ interrupted him.

Dutifully as ever, Ritsu had obeyed Takano-san and answered his phone, sparing but a passing thought for the mistakes he had nearly just made; the weight of them would surely hit him later. For now, he would throw his focus on Mutou-sensei and the storyboard changes she just _had_ to discuss with him so late at night. So he pulled on the nearest pair of pants he could find—thin cotton pajama pants that did little to conceal the erection that had not flagged even under the surprise of the interruption—and waved Takano-san off.

Now that the fog of arousal was starting to lift from his head and he remembered his place was that of Takano-san’s subordinate and _not_ lover, the last thing Ritsu wanted was to be reminded of what he had been about to do. Surely he hadn’t been about to let Takano-san fuck him. And there was definitely _no way_ he very nearly professed his love to the guy. That wasn’t the Onodera Ritsu he knew. That was the innocent, head-over-heels Oda Ritsu of ten years ago. They weren’t even _close_ to being the same person. Not anymore.

In his periphery, Ritsu could see that Takano-san was leaning against the doorframe of the entrance to the living room. Why couldn’t the guy take a hint? After all, _he_ was the one who had told him to answer the phone in the first place. And Mutou-sensei was not usually quick to placate when it came to storyboard changes. Did Takano-san really think that if he hung around, Ritsu would just fall back into his arms as soon as he was off the phone and they could just pick up where they left off? Not in a million years.

“…-san? Onodera-san? Can you hear me clearly?”

Shit. He needed to get his mind off Takano-san and slip back into work mode. “Ah, sorry, Sensei! I was making a lot of noise shuffling papers on this end. What page did you want to discuss?”

Ritsu shifted so his back was to the doorway, putting Takano-san out of sight and hopefully out of mind as he focused on the storyboard in front of him. Work was much more important than whatever relationship—or lack thereof—he had with Takano-san anyway. He had finally decided to put all his efforts into becoming a manga editor with skills on par with his boss, and he wouldn’t have a chance of succeeding if he didn’t get his head straight.

He uncapped his red pen and marked a few changes as Mutou-sensei rattled them off in his ear, giving her the occasional _yes, yes_ so she would know he was still listening. This was good. This was a productive conversation between an editor and his charge. It was how he was _supposed_ to be spending his evenings—not getting bandaged up and then sucked off by Takano-san in his _genkan_. Who _did_ that?

Ritsu’s body still burned with residual heat wherever Takano-san had touched him, and he unthinkingly put a hand against his thigh, remembering how feverishly hot Takano-san’s body had been, pressing against him, burning with the promise of things still to come. Why did Takano-san think this was something he wanted? Just because he had been in a bit of a relationship dry spell lately (which, admittedly, had started quite a while before he started working at Marukawa), and maybe every kiss, every stroke and flick of the tongue brought Ritsu back to Saga-senpai’s room, back to that time when love wasn’t so complicated and every touch was something to be treasured…that didn’t mean he would be so easily won over _now_. That was something…something to be decided at another time.

“…think the pacing on pages 31 to 34 is okay? Should there be more build-up before the next scene?”

Dimly, Ritsu realized Mutou-sensei was still talking, and he was still expected to pay attention. “Hm? Oh!” He quickly shuffled the pages and looked them over before giving her his answer. _This shouldn’t be so hard! Get it together already!_ “I think if you add one more page, the flow would—“

Without even making a sound, Takano-san had somehow snuck up behind Ritsu and was now sitting directly beside him, so close their legs brushed. And not only that, he had _kissed_ him—on the cheek! Surely it was meant to be sweet and unobtrusive, but that only served to startle Ritsu more. Who was Takano-san to go and pull a complete reversal from desperate passion to sweet adoration in only a matter of minutes? The Takano-san he knew shouldn’t be able to possess such duality.

“Onodera-san? …Onodera-san? Are you still there?”

“Ah…” It took Ritsu nearly a full thirty seconds to find his voice again, confused and unnecessarily flustered as he was. “Y-Yes, I’m here! I just, um…I dropped my phone. I-If you add another page, the flow would be much smoother.” He gave a sidelong glare at Takano-san and did his best to scoot further down the table to put some distance between them. Why couldn’t the guy just _take a hint_?

Takano-san seemed none too bothered by this and simply closed half the distance between them and reached out for the storyboard, checking over all the places Ritsu had freshly marked. “Here’s what you _really_ ought to be changing.” He picked up the red pen and marked a few spots where speech bubbles should be reversed and panels rearranged before setting it back down. “There’s no _way_ I checked this over already.”

With a soft huff, Ritsu reached out and snatched the pen back, holding his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone to keep Mutou-sensei from overhearing him snap in a harsh whisper, “Will you just _go home_ already, Takano-san? You’re not helping.”

In the next second, he was pasting on a smile and shuffling to the next page Mutou-sensei wanted to correct. “Yes, yes, I see what you mean, but I don’t think it’s a problem.” His gaze, however, kept flickering back to Takano-san, who seemed to be moving ever closer to him, now so close Ritsu could feel the heat radiating from his side, Takano-san’s proximity enough to both unnerve him and make his heart leap to his throat out of both worry and anxious anticipation.

“Fine, I’ll leave your corrections alone,” Takano-san finally capitulated. “I’ll fix them again tomorrow.”

Ritsu heard the floor creak next to him, and he heaved a sigh of relief, hoping Takano-san would finally give him some peace and let him attend to his author properly. He was sure he was owed at least _that_ much. But it seemed Takano-san had other plans, as suddenly the warm weight of his chest was pressed against Ritsu’s back, and he felt the hairs at the back of his neck bristle as Takano-san’s warm breath puffed over it.

Before Ritsu even had a chance to protest the movement—or the hands that were snaking their way over his bare torso—Takano-san’s lips were at his ear, grinning with satisfaction at the soft falter in Ritsu’s breath and whispering, “Whatever you do, don’t hang up.”

For his part, Ritsu did his best to squirm away from the roving hands, trying to ignore the way they made his every nerve thrum with pleasure and burn with the need for more. He hated the way his body always betrayed him like this. It wasn’t fair that his body didn’t care about the past ten years or that his heart was still confused and not yet prepared to forgive Takano-san for what happened back then. It only cared that the hands caressing it knew _exactly_ what they were doing and had never failed to bring him off in a variety of exceedingly gratifying ways. And it wasn’t afraid to show its appreciation.

Takano-san’s lips pressed light kisses to the back of Ritsu’s neck as his hands explored more of Ritsu’s torso, sliding along smooth, flushed skin, the muscles beneath it trembling and tensing as his fingers sought out a nipple and tugged. Ritsu jerked against him and bit his lip, but made no sound. Takano-san had to admit he was impressed that Ritsu was still staunchly ignoring him, nodding and responding to each of Mutou-sensei’s concerns, though the woman probably couldn’t tell that his voice was pitching just a bit higher, his breath coming a little quicker than before.

Ritsu’s hand immediately shot out to grab Takano-san’s wrist as soon as his wandering fingers began to dip beneath the elastic waist of his pants. Surely Takano-san didn’t think that he could get away with giving him a handjob while he was on the phone with an author, did he? This was _work_ , dammit! He couldn’t just explain away a series of gasps and moans to a horrified _client_. He’d lose his job!

Momentarily deterred, Takano-san slid his hand back up to pay more attention to Ritsu’s nipples, pinching and tugging them to stiff little peaks. He wanted to do so much more than this. He wanted to take that damn phone and snap it in half so he could get back to where they _had_ been, grinding together on the floor and swallowing each other’s moans in desperate kisses. But even he knew that work was more important, and there’d be plenty more chances to get Ritsu in his bed (or on the floor—he wasn’t picky) in the future.

In truth, he hadn’t even intended to go this far. He told himself he’d give Ritsu a quick peck on the cheek, then excuse himself for the night. But when he had looked over at Ritsu and saw the way his pants were shamelessly tented, he knew there was no way he could let such a chance pass him by. It would do nothing to satisfy _his_ still proudly straining cock, but he was getting used to putting Ritsu’s needs ahead of his own.

For a few moments, Ritsu closed his eyes. Everywhere his clothes touched his skin seemed to itch uncomfortably. And everywhere Takano-san touched him was burning, prickling, overly sensitive to every minute movement of his fingers. He wanted to cry out, tell him to stop, ask him to continue, yell at him to go home, beg him for more. He was a study in contradictions; he wanted all and nothing, and he needed…. He needed….

Mutou-sensei sighed softly into his ear, and Ritsu opened his eyes again. “I’m so sorry to be asking you to do this so late at night. But it really is a big help to talk it over with you, Onodera-san!”

“It’s not a problem at all. I’m happy to help.” A lie. Ritsu wanted nothing more than to hang up the phone before his voice sounded any more strained or embarrassingly high. He wanted to give Takano-san a piece of his mind for this challenge he had forced upon him. Takano-san knew he could never back down from a challenge, and he was determined as ever to beat this one just as he had beaten all the others.

Once again, Takano-san’s hand began to slide lower, brushing over a rounded hipbone, and this time Ritsu didn’t even put up a fight when those long fingers found their way inside his pants, unfailingly seeking out and curling around his shaft, making his hips jerk and his head fall back against Takano-san’s shoulder. It was only through some small miracle that he managed to keep his moan to himself.

The low sound of Takano-san’s amusement at the reaction reverberated through Ritsu, and his head was swimming with a heady mix of bliss and embarrassment, desperation and what remained of his reason. And then Takano-san’s hand began to move, and this time he really _did_ gasp softly into the phone.

“…Are you all right, Onodera-san?”

Ritsu blinked a few times, gathering his wits about him, though his hips refused to play along, instead arcing up into Takano-san’s strong and tight grip. “A-Ah, yes, sorry. A book…fell over on my shelf and s-startled me.”

“Ah, all right.”

Mutou-sensei did not sound convinced that everything was really all right. But Ritsu couldn’t find it in him to care overmuch at the moment. Takano-san’s hand was doing wonderful things to his cock, stroking at just the right speed, rubbing _just so_ against the underside, and swirling his thumb over the increasingly wet crown. He was starting to have serious doubts about whether he’d be able to see this through to the end and still keep Mutou-sensei as his charge.

“Focus, Onodera.”

Takano-san’s voice was low in his ear, husky and playful and teasing and Ritsu wished he weren’t still on the phone because he had a few choice words for the guy right about then.

“Yes,” he hissed, both to Takano-san and Mutou-sensei, and if the latter noticed the way he had drawn out the last letter, she didn’t say anything. “Yes, I’m fine now.” At length, he added, “Please…continue.” Whether Takano-san would take that as his own personal invitation was entirely up to him.

Mutou-sensei happily began to chatter again, going on about sequencing and weak dialogue and Ritsu was beginning to wonder if she liked _anything_ about the storyboard, because his patience was growing as short as his restraint. And the sooner she was satisfied with the changes, the sooner he could hang up and moan and gasp to his heart’s content, the way he so desperately _wanted_. It wasn’t helping that that smug, intoxicating feeling of knowing just how much he could arouse Takano-san had returned the moment he had shifted his hips and felt the unmistakably hard ridge of Takano-san’s cock press against his lower back. Served him right for pulling something like this, though a small part of him did feel a little sympathy for his plight.

Ritsu shifted the papers on the table again, noting with some relief that they were nearing the end of the storyboard, and he fervently hoped it would come before _he_ did. However, it wasn’t looking very promising, as Takano-san’s hand was moving ever quicker over him and he could feel that familiar tightening low in his belly. His hand came up to cover the receiver again as he allowed himself a few soft, gasping pants of breath which, in hindsight, probably only served to spur Takano-san on.

Eventually, Ritsu’s hand fell away from the phone, instead seeking purchase behind him, fingers latching on to Takano-san’s leg beside his own, and he once again closed his eyes, past the point of being able to focus on anything Mutou-sensei said, climax so close he could taste it.

“Are you sure you’re all right? I keep hearing these strange sounds.” Mutou-sensei’s voice was a mixture of concern and suspicion. “Maybe we’re getting some interference?”

Interference. _Yes, there’s interference all right. Its name is Takano-san_ , Ritsu mused. Try though he might, could only manage a few brief, one word answers in response as he tried to will his voice to sound far less desperate and pleasure-tinged than it wanted. “Yes. Fine…really.”

Takano-san made another soft sound of amusement in his ear, his own breath coming a bit heavier with both exertion and frustration, and Ritsu figured it would serve Takano-san just fine if he ended up coming in his pants. The hand stroking him continued to move faster, slickened by the pearls of liquid dripping from the head of his cock, and Ritsu resigned himself to whatever embarrassing fate awaited him as all of his pleasure culminated and boiled over from within.

“I-I’m…sorry,” he gasped, “I’m going to…going to—“

With the last ounce of reason he possessed, Ritsu once again covered the mouthpiece of the phone, holding it at arm’s length as he came hard, feeling the warm, milky ribbons of his cream spill down his stomach and dribble over Takano-san’s fingers. He could feel Takano-san’s sharp eyes on him, probably both surprised and disappointed at the outcome of the challenge as Ritsu lay panting against the broad chest behind him, knowing Mutou-sensei was probably even more concerned for him now, though he could hardly manage to care, as sated as he was.

All too quickly, he found himself being gently pushed forward, Takano-san murmuring in his ear, “Finish your phone call. You can pay me back later.” And just like that, Takano-san was moving from behind Ritsu, grabbing a few tissues from a nearby box to clean his hand, and then gone from the room. The soft click of the front door closing followed closely behind.

Ritsu simply slumped down against the table, breath slowly returning to normal, and he lifted the phone to his ear once more, taking a deep breath to muster up the energy to sound truly, sincerely apologetic. “I’m so sorry, Mutou-sensei! I felt a really big sneezing fit coming on. I think I need to dust my apartment. I didn't mean to interrupt you like that.”

Mutou-sensei sounded almost startled at the sudden apology, probably seriously reconsidering praising Ritsu for being such a good editor earlier. She giggled a bit nervously before responding in her usual cheerful way. “Ah, so _that’s_ what happened. I was a little worried, but I'm glad you're all right. Shall we finish up the last few pages? I don’t want to keep you all night.”

For the first time in a while, Ritsu considered himself a pretty lucky guy. He had somehow managed to make it through Takano-san’s particularly cruel (though admittedly satisfying) challenge and _not_ offend or disturb his author in some way. Considering how close he had been to failing at both, he figured he should be thanking his lucky stars tonight.

Dimly, he became aware of the sound of Takano-san’s shower running, a sound he had become quite accustomed to thanks to the building’s thin walls. And for a moment, his thoughts turned to the man in question, fairly certain he knew exactly what was happening in that shower just then. _You can pay me back later._ Ritsu rolled his eyes, not daring to make another noise that would arouse Mutou-sensei’s suspicions any further tonight. He wasn’t sure he liked the implications in that sentence. After all, he had nearly gotten himself carried away with Takano-san once already. Any future encounters between them were bound to put him in even more dangerous territory.

But there was one thing Ritsu knew for certain. Whatever may happen, he could count on Mutou-sensei to interrupt it. And after what had just transpired, he was definitely sure he hated that thought.


End file.
